


Hatred by association

by WickedHeadache



Series: Time Travel For Morons [2]
Category: Runaways (TV 2017)
Genre: 1960s, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, Family Dynamics, Gender Roles, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-09
Updated: 2020-03-09
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:48:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23075014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WickedHeadache/pseuds/WickedHeadache
Summary: During her short painful time in the 60's, Leslie had come to the conclusion that typing machines were the devil, she missed cell phones, and that when Pride finally came looking for them, she would punch someone in the face. Victor, preferably.
Relationships: Leslie Dean/Tina Minoru
Series: Time Travel For Morons [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1649044
Kudos: 19





	Hatred by association

“Sweetheart, get me a cup of coffee, would ya? Black, two sugars.”

If she thought about it, that might have been one of the most polite manners she had been asked that question. A question that disguised none too well a demand. Leslie wouldn't have been bothered by it, as it was part of her job, if it wasn't 1960 and every man didn't talk to her like she was a little girl or their wife.

She clenched her jaw in the most subtle way she could muster and gave Rogers a tight smile that she hoped it didn't seem too fake. She had a job to do, she reminded herself like she did every day since she got stuck in the past, she couldn't afford getting herself fired. 

That, however, was easier said than done. Everyone treated her like she had air in her head and nothing to bring to the table but a pretty face and good assistance. Nevermind that she basically built up a church from the ground and- Well, she corrected herself begrudgingly, not yet. She had also been hit on by a few men that she thanked to the grace of God that they weren't her boss, and they seemed quite shocked by the fact that she had no interest in having their dicks anywhere near her.

She hated the 60's.

At least the clothing hadn't turned all colorful and blinding, yet. She preferred to wear a sensible, form-fitting light brown skirt and a cream-colored blouse over a bright orange, square-shaped dress. And don't get her started with the haircuts. She shuddered at the thought.

Leslie knocked on the door with a plaque that read  _ Robert Rogers Jr. VP _ , a steaming cup of coffee on her hand. Her boss was particularly tickled by someone coming into his office without knocking the door. Leslie had learned that the tough way. Walking in to Rogers fucking his mistress and getting yelled at for it was not an experience she was interested in reliving.

She stepped into the office and placed the cup on the desk.

“Is there anything else you need?” Leslie said. She learned that one line from her own assistant, actually. She should give that woman a raise when she came back, she mused.

“Yes,” he replied, not looking up from the file in his hands. “Postpone my meeting with Dick Colter. Then call my wife and tell her I'll be late for dinner tonight.”

He was probably nursing a hangover and was too tired to work today, and he would be meeting his mistress that night, so he was ditching his wife, who was for sure working her ass off making dinner for him, to go and get laid.

She hated the 60's men.

She had only been working at  _ Laurent and Associates _ for a little over three months, but that had been enough time to realize that they were all assholes. Really, she had been cleared from any doubts she could've had up until that moment when someone in the office had put a copy of one of Leslie's coworkers' birth certificate and mocked her for being over thirty years old. 

Leslie was thirty-five years old. She took it personally. She was lucky she had accidentally told her coworkers she was married (forgetting that she was in the past) and that they were under the illusion that her husband was some sort of drunk and they were poor. Because that's the only reasonable explanation for her working after she got married, instead of staying home, taking care of the children.

Thankfully, Leslie had kept to herself since then, so nobody knew anything else about her. She had her privacy. The less questions asked the better. Men still tried to get in her pants and got offended when she rejected them, but she guessed she couldn't have everything. 

She did both calls, inventing a quick excuse as to why Rogers wouldn't be able to attend the meeting, and sat down behind her desk. During her short, painful time in the 60's, Leslie had come to the conclusion that typing machines were the devil, she missed cell phones, and that when Pride finally came looking for them, she would punch someone in the face. Victor, preferably.

“Leslie!” Joanne called for her, waving animatedly alongside Hugh and Philip. “Want to join us for a drink? There is this lovely place five streets from here. It's so very gay, you'd love it.”

“I'm sure I would,” she bit her lip to keep an amused smile away from her lips. “But I have to go home. Thank you, though. Maybe another time.”

She arrived at the apartment she had been living in for the past three months. It was so impersonal, and yet she craved to get there every single night after work. She opened the door and was hit with the sound of Tina's voice. The words were said so softly she couldn't make out what she was speaking about. The place was smaller than anywhere Leslie had lived in before, and they had only been able to afford it after selling all of the jewelry they had on when they time-travelled. 

That alone was a great risk for the timeline.

Leslie loosened the coat around her shoulders and slipped it out. She walked to the kitchen and saw Tina, Elle in her arms as she spoke into her ear. Then she stopped. She looked up and spotted Leslie in the doorway, who was freeing her hair from the uncomfortable bun she had to tie it in.

“Hello,” Leslie exhaled. “I'm assuming you don't have any news?”

“No signals have dropped from the sky, sadly,” was Tina's retort.

“Have I mentioned that I hate the 60's?”

Tina chuckled. She had, almost every day since they got stuck in that time and place. “I'm sure you can choose a different time for the next trip.”

“Very funny,” she said with an unimpressed look. As if she'd ever get close to a time machine again. “How is she?”

“Her cheeks are red,” Tina answered. “I think she's catching a cold.”

Leslie's brows furrowed immediately and she stepped forward to place the back of her hand over the baby's forehead. “She's not warm,” she told her, sounding relieved. Then she took little Elle into her arms and held her tight. “Here, come with mama.”

She missed Karolina, she thought distantly. She inhaled deeply the baby scent and her lips quirked upwards.

“How was work?” Tina asked as she turned around to open the fridge.

“Dreadful, as usual,” she said over Elle's head and heard Tina laugh. “When we go back to the present, you should give a raise to your assistant. She deserves it.”

“Oh?” Tina seemed amused. “And how would you know that?”

“I have developed an understanding for all assistants since I became one,” Leslie explained. She kissed Elle's cheek repeatedly, getting a giggle from her. “What are we making for dinner?”


End file.
